


Just the rain

by Ai_CopyCat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, M/M, No Dialogue, No Plot/Plotless, No Smut, Ocean, Peace, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ai_CopyCat/pseuds/Ai_CopyCat
Summary: A man standing in the rain."Everything seemed peaceful, staring at him.Of every ten minutes, Lance has been waiting for the bus, the guy seemed to have stood there another day."
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Kudos: 7





	Just the rain

**Author's Note:**

> Just dramatic writing. Please enjoy.

So, there he was while the rain drowned sound.  
Everything seemed peaceful, staring at him.  
Of every ten minutes, Lance has been waiting for the bus, the guy seemed to have stood there another day.  
The downpour never ceased for a clear look through the plexiglas back of the bus stop. It painted such a serene mirage of a man against an ocean.  
Once the last person gave up waiting for the bus, Lance was alone with his picture.  
He has thought of so many possibilities that weren't an unmoving man standing in wet sand. So many that wouldn't be drenched clothes, dark from the rain, sticking uncomfortably to skin.  
Nothing could convince him but the downpour never let up enough to see the black figure clearly.  
So, who would bother their nearly dry self, to leave the safety of a bus stop, for just a glance? For the unimportant confirmation that that, indeed, was a man?  
The rain felt oddly warm and suffocating. Each breath just another fight for air. It didn't take seconds to get drenched. It was instant like stepping into somewhere else.  
Clothes felt so much heavier and the sound of rain was different from within.  
The weight of water and hair made it hard to even lift the head.  
But Lance gazed at the back of the man being drenched just like him.  
A light shirt had turned to never fit the rythme of breath. To constantly weigh on the chest, but to also peel and slap against the stomach at each step.  
Trousers, heavier than lead, helped to burry the bucket-like shoes, squelchingly into the drowning sand.  
Everything chafed, ached and itched in the summer falling skies. But Lance kept going.  
Soon, not much was left between them.  
The black mass of hair cleft by the nose against the sky. Eyes closed while heavy streaks of water flooded over them.  
The ocean had reached the sunken ankles and sand has climbed the dark jeans.  
Only the chest and the rain seemed to move. A shirt whose colour was determined by water alone, creased and twisted over every gentle curve anew each breath.  
His face wasn't peaceful but wasn't anything else either. It just accepted the falling sky which, so far, has drowned out every sound.  
"Hey, Ke-"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> It's been a while since I have written anything.  
> I hope I set the tone somewhat instead of just assuming you'll imagine similar things while reading this... I am in my head too much.


End file.
